Family Rites
by Daniel Wesley Rydell
Summary: CLOUDED HORIZONS: War is hell, and in hell there are no friends, nor is there family. There are just those who are along for the ride...
1. Stalker

_The art of war isn't always fought on the battlefields. Or perhaps, a better way to phrase this is to say that battlefields aren't always conventional... or necessarily accessible. The art of family warfare is that which cannot be easily entered or stopped. However, there are certain variables that are always constant._

_One, it is always personal for every family member, and anyone else involved._

_Two, it is always bloody._

Blood is dangerous, even before it is spilled. 

_Darius Sr. DeValle_

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

(Deling City – 20:05)

A man rounded a corner in a torrential downpour.

He'd lost his trailer four blocks before and that had given him some sense of relief, but he knew it wasn't time to relax. Just because he had lost the ones following him didn't mean they couldn't find him, or that he couldn't make a fatal turn. He quickened his pace. If he could just get to the safe house, he'd be protected.

Until then, he couldn't relax.

"Goddamn Deling family," He cursed under his breath as he made his way into a dark alley. His foot hit a particularly large puddle, and caused water to leak into his shoe. Coupled with the water cascading down in sheets, he was soaked, and it was getting worse.

"Whose idea was it to put the safe house on the damn outskirts? Wish those jackasses had given me a chance to get to my car…"

His legs, while cold, were burning. He'd run for almost ten blocks across the accursed Deling City, and the journey, being slowed by the slick ground seemed to loom horribly in front of him. He gritted his teeth against the pain, and grabbed the fence in front of him. His arms pulled him up and over, and he began his hastened pace down the alley.

Wasting no more time, he pulled a cell phone from his pocket. Holding down a number for a moment, he slammed the phone to his right ear. As he waited for an answer, he made his way across a busy street, barely being missed by a vehicle as it went way too fast for the conditions. He ignored the yelled curse as he made his way into another alley.

"Yeah."

The voice startled him, but the situation he found himself in brought him to full attention.

"Look. They've hit most of the fronts on Third and Brenton. My crew's been wiped. I'm heading to the safe house. I need some back up!" He screamed into the phone, taking a left into a narrow pathway.

"What's your location?"

"I'm close to the safe house. You've gotta help me," He started, then silenced himself. A splash behind him had alerted his senses.

"I'm being followed."

The voice was silent for a moment.

"The safe house should be sending support any moment now," The voice responded.

"I hope so, cause those Deling shits aren't friendly."

"Less talking, and keep moving."

The man shook his head.

"Friendly as fuck, aren't ya."

He received no response, and smirked slightly despite his situation. His feet carried him through more alleys and led him closer to the outskirts. Somewhere along the way, he barely noticed that he wasn't being followed anymore.

"What's your current location?"

"I can see the safe house now. Where the hell is my back up?"

"Shut up. You'll have plenty once you're in the house," The voice scolded as the man, drenched as he was, ran to the side of a small building. A small keypad met his vision, and his eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lights.

"I'm here."

"Three-Oh-One-Two-Six," The voice replied.

The man smiled as the door opened, and he stepped inside. Soaking wet, he made sure the door was closed behind him, and then turned on the light.

"Hey, you said there was people here, right?"

"Yeah.

He looked around confusedly.

"I don't see anyone."

"Check the rest of the house, you moron."

The man sighed quietly, and made his way through the house.

The back entryway, empty.

The kitchen, empty.

The bedroom, empty.

"Where the fuck are they?"

"Check the front room. If Deling thugs are attacking, this place is probably on high alert."

'High alert, my ass' he thought as he made his way into the front room. His eyes immediately slammed shut. A quick intake of breath alerted the voice on the other end of the phone to a change in the situation.

"What is it? What did you find?!"

His mouth opened for a moment, to attempt to speak. But the words never left his mouth as pain shot through his abdomen. He slowly looked down, and saw the blade that had pierced his stomach. He didn't even have time to gasp as the phone was taken from his hand.

"Hey, answer me!"

The gloved hand brought the phone to a face; a woman's face. Her crimson lips curved up into a smile.

"I'm sorry, he's unable to take the phone right now. It appears he's had a bad case of death. I'll let him know you called," Her smoothly soft voice taunted.

"What? Who-"

The voice was cut off as the phone was tossed into the air, and sliced in half by a quick slash from her katana. With a smile, she pressed her own phone to her ear.

"It's me. I found him."

Pause.

"He was DeValle, that's sure. He knew the code to the back entry."

Pause.

"Fine. I'll be there in five."

She closed the phone, and slid its silver body into a small clip attached to her belt. Then, she pulled the blade in, sheathing it. Checking her gloves once more, black leather in nature, she looked out across the room. She could see what had shocked the man, and that was it's intended purpose.

It hadn't been difficult once she'd gotten her way into the safe house. The man at the door had no chance, and neither had his buddies. They were all the same. Fools who thought, and she used the term lightly, with their crotches.

She'd left the bodies in specific locations, each with specific wounds tailored to bring about the most shock and disgust. And look what it had netted her. She smiled at her last target, then walked away, her high-heeled boots clicking quietly against the concrete floor.

"Sayonara, baby."

-

Author's Notes:

This idea was based out of a random strange thought I had, and was wrote up while in a voice chat. The Deling family is obviously recognizable, and the DeValle family may not be to you, unless you've read Nightfire's Eternal Requiem, and Dimensional Legend: Ben's Story. It might be helpful to read DL if you want to get a feel for this. Otherwise, just consider this a Mafia-type fic, semi in the style of Peptuck's 'Ronin.' If you don't know what I'm talking about when I say 'Ronin,' then you have not experienced in the way that it was meant to be experienced.

More soon.


	2. Blood Money

_It bothers those who are watching. Death isn't easy to see, but even worse is to see it coming, and realize that you'll not be able to do anything about it. Few people in the world can say that they've seen that death and lived, but fewer can deliver that fatal blow._

That's why the DeValle family is the best. I know that each and every member of it can.

--Albel Nox, The Left Hand of Death.

_----------------------------_

Trabia Garden, 3rd Level – 09:00

Slow footsteps echoed across the conference room as General Albel Nox took a seat at the lengthy polished oak table. As he did, he discovered a simple manila folder placed on the table.

"Open."

Albel looked up, noticing the figure across the room. He was standing next to an expansive window, today wearing a formal ornate robe of some oriental type.

"What is it?" Albel asked.

"Just look."

Albel nodded, and took several sheets paper from the folder. On the first was a long list of business names.

"Last night, 40 of our business fronts in Deling City were hit. Most were torched, however, a few were forcefully taken," the figure at the window commented.

Albel quietly perused the list. Seemingly random hits, but they were all profitable ventures. The rough estimate in his head totaled the damages at…

"100,000 drakes. Nothing we can't replace," He commented.

The figure nodded subtly.

"Of course. That's a drop in the bucket for our family. Keep reading."

The second sheet came up, and Albel began to read over it. It was a list of seemingly random people, however, they were all associated with the Family. He frowned.

"Total casualties are around fifty. We lost quite a few of our operatives. However, in our defense, we did kill almost as many as we lost."

Albel smirked.

"It speaks of the incompetence of the worms in the Deling Family," Albel scoffed.

The figure turned for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at the general.

"The third sheet, Nox."

The general obliged, and looked at the third sheet. On it, was a picture taken from a security camera in what he assumed was the safe house located in Deling. He couldn't quite tell, but he instinctively knew something was wrong in the picture. Then, as his eyes adjusted to the blurry quality of the picture, he saw it.

Dead bodies. At least six of them.

"Our safe house was compromised?"

The man at the window nodded.

"But…"

"We have a fairly good idea that it was the Deling Family."

For the first time, the figure turned. Darius Sr. DeValle, the head of the DeValle family, frowned.

"I don't like it at all."

Albel nodded, and pulled a phone from his side.

"I'll have a team standing by in an hour."

The Senior's frown deepened as he took a seat across from his head general.

"No, Albel. Not yet."

"Sir?"

The Senior closed his eyes for a moment, moving his hands into a temple.

"Deling is volatile. Any moves we make outside in broad daylight may be… construed in the wrong fashion by our supporters. One wrong move and we might find ourselves with Deling City… without business. I'm sure you can understand why that can't be our intention in the area."

Albel nodded.

"Then, what will we do?"

The Senior smiled.

"It's strange you should ask that…"

---

"I'm here to see DeValle."

Downstairs, a receptionist looked up at the figure in front of her, and a shocked expression crossed her features.

"Hey, aren't-"

"I have an appointment."

"Yessir! The first elevator on the right will take you directly to the Headmaster's office."

The man nodded and smirked.

"Thanks, lady."

---

A loud thud on the door caused the Senior to look up. He stood up, making broad strides to the door.

"Enter!"

A moment later, a man walked in, wearing a long black cloak which covered most of his features.

"DeValle. I heard you had a job for me."

The Senior nodded.

"I believe it's tailored to your… unique… tastes. Please, take a seat," the Senior said, motioning towards a table. The man nodded, taking a seat next to General Nox. He placed his hands on the table, but not before removing the hood. His features came into the light...

"Brother. It's been a while," Albel Nox muttered, glancing at his twin.

"It has."

Nothing else was spoken between the two.

"Jarok, I believe you know of the situation in Deling City?"

The man nodded, and a folder was slid over to him. It contained the same documents as the previous folder, with one exception.

"I do. I was in the preliminary meeting for it. Deling wanted a financial blow, as well as a body count. Actually, from the looks of it, he barely accomplished either. Too bad."

The Senior's eyes narrowed.

"Mister Nox. I need to know where your loyalties lie at this moment."

Jarok smirked, and for a moment, there was no way to tell him apart from his twin. Then, his lips curved downward into a stoic expression.

"If you're asking me whether I'm going to leave this meeting, and tell the Deling Family that you're pissed off 'cause your fronts were hit? No. He already knows that."

The Senior frowned, then continued.

"How much do you know of the strikes last night?" Albel asked.

Jarok smiled, leaning back in his chair.

"Indiscriminate. They were told if it bore anything relating to the DeValle family, they had discretion to torch it, and do anything to its inhabitants. They got some information about your safe house, and sent the Silver Dragon herself out. Heard she took out your safe house rather quickly."

The Senior sighed loudly.

"That doesn't matter."

Jarok leaned forward.

"So, what's so important to call me in?" Jarok asked.

The Senior smiled, almost bitterly.

"As much as I want you to go in with your brother and wipe out the entire family… that's not in our best interests. I want you to deliver a message to the Deling Senior."

Jarok's lips curved up just slightly.

"And what would that be?"

"I want you to tell them that I wish to broker a deal with them that would allow us both to work in the same area. An arrangement, perhaps, could be brokered to profit both of our families. However, if I have not received a positive response by midnight tomorrow, I will have the Deling family's assets torched in the city.

Jarok scoffed.

"Deling may be a moron, but he's not afraid."

The Senior's smile turned down slightly.

"There may be a monetary incentive for their family should they choose to agree to this deal."

Jarok closed his eyes.

"Look, I understand if you're pissed off about their attacks on you, but I know this family. You've got resources that most governments don't have. What's the point of dealing with Deling, when you know he won't budge?"

The Senior nodded at Albel, whose chair turned to face Jarok.

"I assume you're familiar with our operations in the area?"

Jarok nodded.

"For the most part. I'm actually quite impressed on how you were able to keep up a level of invisibility in a city controlled by Deling."

Albel cleared his throat, then continued.

"Deling's operations are important to the DeValle family, in that the area can be very profitable if we can get a strong foothold. However, Deling's attacks have stopped that. If we can manage to appeal to him, we may be able to solve this without further violence. Any violence would be potentially damaging to our image in the area."

Jarok leaned back, putting his feet on the table.

"So. You've all gotta know that Deling won't be afraid, and he probably won't take a bribe either."

The Senior stood up, walking to the window again. His back to the other two, he placed his hands behind him.

"Then, we must take the Deling family out of the equation, by whatever means necessary."

Jarok chuckled darkly.

"I'll give you credit. You've got balls. Assassination of the Deling leaders, right?"

DeValle nodded.

"If that's what it takes. In all fairness though, I don't care. One way or the other, we will win."

Jarok smirked.

"Your family is quite able to pay for my services… but are you willing?"

Albel pointed to the fourth paper in Jarok's folder.

"Your contract. I believe you'll find that should you undertake this mission, you'll be well reimbursed."

Jarok looked over the document, whistling softly.

"Damn. If they go with peace, I get 15 of the profits from the DeValle family, on top of over 400,000 drakes?"

The Senior turned, looking at Jarok.

"Of course, if the situation changes so that peace isn't an option, you'll also be well reimbursed."

Jarok looked over the contract, then picked a pen off the desk. As he signed, he muttered.

"I'll need some supplies."

The Senior nodded, then tapped his ear, a wireless ear bud in it.

"I have someone I need you to attend to."

He pauses.

"Don't argue with me. Just do what I ask."

Once again.

"Yes."

He clicked the ear bud again, and looked over at the door. While he watched it, he began to speak again.

"Of course, any of our remaining resources in Deling City are also at your disposal. However, I want to stress to you, failure in this instance is not an option."

Jarok smiled, almost carelessly.

"You obviously don't know who you're talking to."

The Senior shook his head slightly, just as the door opened revealing his second oldest son, Revolver DeValle. The son looked at the chairs, seeing both Jarok and Albel.

"That the guy?"

"Yes. Please, take care of any needs he may have for supplies. Jarok, you'll leave at noon."

Revolver and Jarok looked at each other for a moment, then Jarok followed the DeValle son as he left the room. As the door closed, Albel looked at the Senior.

"He's cocky. It'll probably get him killed someday."

The Senior chuckled.

"So are you, General."

"Touché."

--

Author's Notes.

Not much to say about this chapter. R&R.


	3. Silver Dishes and Wine

_The Deling family has a strong foothold in Deling City, obviously. You'd be surprised though, how the stereotypical picture of a 'family' is changed with them. While most of the older "Families" have only upscale, restaurants, the Deling family appeals to many ages with its business ventures. From nightclubs to store-fronts, the Deling family has firmly placed themselves in the forefront of all Deling City business._

_DeValle doesn't know what he's gettin' himself into. _

_--Jarok Nox_

_-------------_

Rubedo's , Deling City – 19:30

The spacious, yet cozy restaurant was alive later that night as Jarok Nox made his way into the Deling's restaurant. He smirked as he made his way all the way to the back, where youngest Deling, Vinzer smiled up at Jarok.

"Jarok! My friend, a true friend of my family! Sit, rejoice with us!" Vinzer's voice rang out. Jarok nodded, taking a seat. As the mercenary ordered from the waiter, Vinzer raised his voice yet again, along with his expensive champagne glass.

"We managed to hit the DeValle fronts in town last night. But more than that, we managed to hit them _hard. _Our father would be proud. Of course, he wasn't the brightest, so perhaps not," Vinzer said, grinning. Quiet chuckles passed around the table, and sentiments of agreement. Then, the glasses clanged together in support of Vinzer's statement. After eating some of the food placed in front of him, Vinzer smiled warmly at Jarok.

"What brings you here, my friend?"

Jarok sipped some of the water in front of him, then began to speak.

"I spoke to Darius Sr. DeValle this morning. To say that he wasn't happy with the events last night would be an understatement."

Vinzer laughed loudly as a woman sat down at the table, filling one of the last chairs.

"I'm sure he wasn't! Of course, if he had heeded our warning," He commented, then paused. "Of course, we shouldn't expect much. He _is_ a DeValle, after all." His slight caused even more laughter. Jarok smiled, but then continued.

"That's not all. He asked me to deliver a message to you. He's giving you an opportunity to continue business in Deling City alongside his people. Sharing profits, peacefully, without destroying an area that potentially has the ability to be a asset to both families. I'm surprised, actually. He was more amiable than normal."

"I'm sure he was. He knows we hold the cards here," The woman, her red dress hugging her curvaceous figure said. Maria Deling took a long sip of her wine, and smirked. "Least he's that smart."

Jarok nodded, then his ever-present smile widened as the steak was set in front of him. As he began to devour said meat, Vinzer once again spoke.

"So. He wants to work alongside us? Tell him that as long as I live, Deling will not be polluted by DeValle slime."

Jarok shook his head, quietly.

"He thought you might say something like that. He asked me to deliver you one more message."

Vinzer's eyes met Jarok's.

"Which is?"

Jarok paused, polishing off a rather large piece of steak.

"He was giving your family until midnight tomorrow to agree to his deal. If you do not, he has… insinuated… that your family will not survive the night. And, you may very well want to heed that warning. He'll send Nox, and Nox will bring whatever is necessary to eliminate you. No one will be able to stop it.."

Vinzer's eyes narrowed.

"Are you… siding with the DeValle's, my friend? With that Estharian faggot?"

Jarok's eyes closed.

"Of course not. I'm just the messenger. You know my true loyalties lie here."

Vinzer took this opportunity to smile, but very thinly.

"I know. I just thought you might be considering joining your brother in battle again."

Jarok's head shook, and he chuckled darkly.

"With Albel? He sided with the Senior. I sided with this family. Those choices can't be changed now," He smirked, looking exactly like his brother just for a moment. "It just wouldn't be right."

Vinzer's smile grew, and then he took a small cell phone from his suit jacket pocket. He pressed down some numbers, then held it.

"Miss Nicholai? I'm surprised you're not here yet."

He paused, his smile remaining.

"Very well. Hurry, as I have some new orders for you. Orders.. I'm sure you'll enjoy."

He hung up the phone, then resumed on his own meal. Jarok took that as his own cue to continue eating this. And as they ate, the conversation at the table switched to more pleasant topics.

"Jarok."

A voice, velvet and silk, crimson and clover whispered into his ear. He didn't turn, as he knew who was behind him.

"Kitaras. It's good to see you again."

Her whisper, warm, still heated his ear as she pulled away. Her hand, covered in a fitting silver glove slipped from his shoulder, and the boots she wore, also vibrant silver clicked as she walked around the table. Vinzer stared at the woman with lust.

Jarok couldn't say he blamed him.

Kitaras Nicholai was a young woman, around his age with black hair. Her porcelain skin was a pure contrast to the depth of her black eyes. And while her boots were silver, along with her hand garments, the rest of her clothing was form fitting; stylish, yet combat ready. She removed a glove, picking up Jarok's glass with a manicured hand; her fingernails also silver, and took a sip. Then, she put it back down, leaving a barely visible mark of her silver lips.

It wasn't hard to understand why she was called the Silver Dragon. Her strength, while not comparing to many in the world, was coupled with a deadly speed. She was not a force to be taken lightly. Vinzer grasped her hand from across the table.

"Kitaras. I want you to take as many of our people as you need. I want you to find DeValle places of business. I know your work last night did much to upset their ventures, but I want them to hear an answer from me; loud and clear."

He paused.

"Darius Senior DeValle will not know what hit his precious fronts tonight. But, my answer will be clear. I refuse his offer of peace. In fact, I hope he takes it straight to hell."

-

_Uh huh. It's um. Chapter end time._

-DWR


	4. The Leading Man

(Deling City – 02:14)

Deling was quiet this late at night, and Jarok appreciated that fact. It would make his preparations much easier if he didn't have to explain himself to anyone.

Currently, he was waiting outside the city limits, tapping his foot quietly.

_I don't have all night…_

As if hearing the unspoken words, a figure appeared behind him.

"Brother," Albel said quietly, causing his younger brother to turn.

Jarok nodded.

"Did you bring it?"

Albel sighed.

"The stupid maggot who had it wouldn't let it go for anything less than twice it's worth. You owe me for this," Albel replied, handing over a small box to his twin. Jarok took the box, opening it.

Inside it was a small vial, only a few inches long. A black rubber cork, coated in some sort of metallic looking substance kept a black oozing fluid inside of it. He smirked. Pure Marlboro venom, the purest, most deadly poison in the world…

"You know I'm good for it."

Albel shook his head, and disappeared without another word.

Jarok's smirk remained for just a moment.

"Nice to see you too, brother."

-

(Begin Music: Yuki Kajura – a prelude to the tragedy)

His plan was simplistic, but he knew it would succeed.

Vinzer Deling Jr., was a being of habit. While he didn't enjoy mediocrity or the analogous duplicity that could be described as life, he always made sure that certain things were always true. One of those was his tedious attention to breakfast. Every morning, a veritable feast was prepared for the man and anyone who he chose to join him. This usually included family, but sometimes others found their way to the table.

This coming morning, Jarok would find himself at that table.

And Vinzer Deling would never leave it again.

He opened the vial in front of him, and began to sprinkle some dust into it. Cokatrice dust, while annoying on the battlefield, had also been discovered to produce an incredible high. It was also incredibly absorptive, and would hold the poison long enough for it to be distributed on the crime lord's dish, but not long enough for it to pass out of Deling's system. The only problem would be making sure Vinzer didn't notice it on his food.

Of course, even if it didn't, Jarok mused, the slob wouldn't notice the difference.

The two mixed, he gently shook the vial, allowing them to mix, and begin melding together as one. He smiled, considering how ironic it was.

The dust would cause Deling to drift into a euphoric state, while the poison it contained paralyzed and turned his insides to ash. He'd be dying, and would be able to feel it… but the high would make him realize how good he felt besides the pain. He wouldn't call for help, because he'd be so high it wouldn't matter.

Jarok chuckled darkly, sliding the vial into his pocket. Then, he walked across the room, picking up a large rifle case.

There was only one thing left to do, and he left the room to do it.

_Notes:_

Completely unbeta'd. I'm sure it shows. This was a filler chapter.

_Until next chapter…_


	5. Musings in Shining Silver

_They say it's quietest in the morning before the storm strikes. I am apt to wonder if that is true. Of course, because of this logic, it's intelligent to attack in the morning. Still drowsy from a night's sleep, you'll suddenly find yourself getting hit harder than ever before… where it hurts the most._

_- Kitaras Nicholai_

_------------------------------_

(Rubedo's, Deling City - 07:30)

Rubedo's was quiet that morning as Kitaras made her way inside. As she walked deeper into the restaurant, her nose was met by the succulent aroma of the breakfast that Vinzer Deling had ordered for himself and those who joined him this morning.

Part of her gagged and the other part of her hated herself for it.

The Deling Family had given her a home when her own home had outlived it's meaning to her. Deling had treated her like a daughter, and because of that, she'd not been in need of anything in quite a long time. She didn't say that she loved the man, because she didn't. She valued him as a friend, and partly as a mentor.

Where the Vinzer Deling the first had failed, his son had prospered. His father saw the political side as being the best possible solution, but his son soon figured differently. Vinzer the second's business sense was keen, and she had learned quite a good deal about operating a large scale business empire from the man. She couldn't fault him about his business tactics, because they were some of the best she'd ever witnessed.

His tactical sense left something to be desired, and he'd realized this weakness. Her strength was in her analytical mind, at least in how it dealt with small and large group tactics. Because of that, he'd asked her to help his own security forces to become a well-oiled machine; something that would protect his business fronts in the city. She'd done so, and it was amazing what his forces had turned into under her tutelage.

Of course, the man had his faults as well, and she wasn't blinded by respect or idolatry to see it. His wandering eyes labeled him an inveterate womanizer. He was known to take what he wanted from ladies, and leave them hanging. He never was alone at night, and while he'd taken many a look at Kitaras, she'd made herself clear. She wouldn't do anything she didn't want to.

Another flaw was his ability to over-eat.

A light smirk graced her lips as she realized the tangent her own mind had taken as she crossed the restaurant.

His overeating was disgusting and fascinating all in one. His metabolism was astounding, as his body never showed the food that he ate, or how much. Thus, he ate exactly what he wanted, exactly how much he wanted, and the fair maiden (or maidens, she thought) that he would see that night would never even know that he'd ate his weight in Balrog sausage and Chocobo eggs.

Honestly, it was repulsive.

But, none of his faults were life-threatening, or reason to dislike the man. If you looked past it, he wasn't a bad leader. He was cocky in his dealings with outsiders, but it was because his dealings with organizations in his territory had been so successful. His charisma was amazing.

But Darius DeValle Sr. had rubbed him the wrong way. He'd not tried to make peace with the others in the town, choosing to force his way. He put in storefronts, and began taking business away from lucrative fronts for the Deling family.

Now, granted, Vinzer could've made a few different choices, but his personal war on the DeValle family in Deling City was proceeding well. The DeValle family would soon realize the error in their ways, and pull out of the city.

She smirked.

DeValle was an idiot to think he could threaten the people in power here. Even if they managed to get close enough, they would never get past her.

"Good morning."

Deling looked up, and smiled.

"Miss Nicholai! How did your operations go last night?"

For the most part, he was usually respectful of her. She chalked that up in the positive column as she sat down.

"Well. The attacks were unexpected, for the most part. Estimates put their damage up at about 60,000 gil. Of course, they should still be reeling from the attacks from the night previous…" She trailed off, her meaning clear.

Vinzer stopped his feasting for the moment, and looked over at her.

"How much did you leave behind?"

She shook her head.

"Nothing in our paths that was DeValle was left standing."

"Excellent!" Vinzer said, his eyes twinkling with joy. He motioned his hand over the table. "Will you join me?"

She shook her head.

"I've still to secure those locations we struck last night. It won't take me long, but I'd like to do that before I do anything else today," She replied, though she did pick up a piece of toast and began to put a thin layer of butter on it.

He nodded approvingly, and then picked up his fork.

"After you've done that, take the day off. You've done well this week, you deserve some time off. Get yourself something nice, it's on me."

She smiled lightly, as she took the last piece of her toast and began to chew it. Then, she headed from the restaurant and outside.

She didn't notice the figure walking into the restaurant behind her.

----

_I'd say two more chapters, max._

_Until next chapter…_


	6. Reaper's Baptism

_It's not easy when you realize that your life is about to take an unusual and abrupt turn. I was offered a choice. My choice, between death and betrayal, or life and disownment… was not one that was easy. However, my line of the work, and even my life as I knew it, was based upon these choices. How I developed from this point on in my life, and how I would come to view myself. Could I make one choice, and still be able to respect myself? I would hope so… for I knew which choice was to come._

_-Jarok Nox_

_--_

(Rubedo's, Deling City – 07:50)

Vinzer looked up to see his second visitor of the morning. His smile, already wide, was now beaming.

"Jarok! My friend! Join me!"

Jarok obliged, taking a seat at the table. Vinzer's hand motioned over the lavish collection of food, and Jarok smiled, taking a plate and beginning to fill it. Vinzer nodded approvingly.

"I assume you told DeValle of my refusal. How did he take it?"

Jarok shook his head.

"He wasn't thrilled, as you might have thought. He's put a rather lofty price on your head. Anyone who is insane enough to attack you, your sister, and Kitaras Nicholai can expect a hefty reward from the DeValle family. He's making sure not to include Garden in this. This is Family business, you know."

Vinzer's smile turned crooked, as he took another bite.

"I'm sure. Ever since the DeValle family rebuilt that Garden over there… the entire Garden Network has been a DeValle tool," He pauses, pouring a cup of coffee for himself, "At least before, we only had Kramer to worry about. Even Martine can't keep eyes inside of Trabia Garden now that it's DeValle territory."

Jarok didn't respond, as he began to mix some of the food together. Vinzer chuckled quietly.

"You always eat strangely, my friend. It's one of the few pleasures of the morning to find out what sort of foods you'll combine on your plate."

Jarok didn't look up, only continuing to mix the food on his plate.

"Life is too short, too monotonous. It's best to enjoy things while you can. I do what I do, and I can't be bothered to care what others think," He commented, then took a large bite.

Vinzer shook his head.

"But, always in such small amounts! If you're living life to the fullest and everyone else be damned, then why eat such small portions?" He asked, as he began to put a second helping on his own plate.

"Not all of us have your ravenous metabolism."

Vinzer's laugh echoed across the empty restaurant.

"So true. It's a blessing in disguise."

Jarok peered down at his plate for a moment, then pierced a piece of sausage entangled with eggs.

"But, do you truly enjoy what you're eating? Or are you eating because you're hungry?"

Vinzer's lips curved into an amused grin.

"I eat because the food is prepared for me."

"And if it wasn't?"

Vinzer didn't immediately have an answer, and Jarok held up his hands.

"No offense, my friend. Just conversing with you. Healthy debate has never hurt anyone, has it?"

Vinzer shook his head, and began to eat the pancakes he had put on his plate. Jarok's lips turned downward, but only slightly.

"Allow me to ask you something… of an unpleasant nature."

Vinzer nodded curtly.

"When I joined your family... I made some unusual stipulations. Reasons that, for whatever they might be, that I would leave without question. I believe Miss Nicholai did as well."

Vinzer opened his mouth to speak, but Jarok held up his hand.

"For instance, I understand that there are certain lengths you must go to in this city to maintain power. Certain assassinations, certain heists, the normal. I don't expect any less from a Family in your position. In fact, I'd be shocked if you managed to keep your hands dry of the blood that comes in this line of business."

Vinzer tilted his head, his right cheek twitching a little bit.

"I did make it clear that the second this Family was engaged in drug trafficking, that I was gone."

He pulled a folder from inside his jacket and opened it. Taking a group of three pictures out, he pushed them across to the family head.

"Each of those is pictures of your operatives supervising drug exchanges, for large amounts of cash. I don't like it."

Vinzer raised his hand, to attempt to stop Jarok, but he didn't notice.

"I don't know what Kitaras puts up with, but I won't deal with drugs. And if you thought you'd get away with this without me knowing, you're wrong."

Vinzer raised a hand slowly, and went to speak.

..And instinctively he knew something was wrong.

"One more thing. You ought to be feeling quite happy right now. Cockatrice dust will do that to you. In the amount that was in those pancakes you just ate… you should be flying high."

Vinzer blinked, trying to force away the euphoria. He tried to stand, but found his legs weren't responding to him.

"In fact, they'd sell it on the street, if it wasn't so damn paralytic. Don't worry though, you won't die. The paralytic agent isn't always permanent."

His smile returns, but it's not friendly.

"You won't die… not from that, anyway."

He held up a small vial.

"The most deadly substance in the world is a Marlboro's breath. The only thing deadlier than that is it's blood and the poison that runs throughout it's outer covering. And those pancakes were laced with it."

He stood up, dusting off his jacket.

"In fact, it's liquifying your heart and lungs. Give it a few moments to get around, and the rest will follow. The most interesting thing though, is what it does to your skin. I'd tell you, but I have places to be."

Vinzer's voice croaked.

"But… why…"

Jarok turned around.

"You should've kept your end of my deal." He pauses. "Don't think this made me happy, though."

He headed out away from Vinzer, whose lips were curved in a delirious smile…

-

A few minutes later, Maria Deling walked towards the table her brother was sat at. She went to sit down at her customary chair, but then stopped.

"Vinzer?"

She received no response, but he looked awfully happy… if not a little pale.

"Vinzer? Are you all right?"

She touched his shoulder… and his body turned to dust below her hand. She looked in shock, then ran from the table, towards the front entrance screaming bloody murder.

She didn't hear the shot that impacted her forehead, killing her instantly.

--

_One more._

_Until then._


	7. Femme Fatale

_Wars are fought by soldiers. And soldiers follow orders. No matter what type of soldier or war, a choice must be made. Are your moralistic ideals worth death or dishonor? The Soldier's Rite._

_A battle between Families is no different. Every member of each family must choose what is truly valuable to them. Whether it's family or wealth or power. Whatever it is, they'd better want it. Because, whatever decision you make affects the Family. The Family's Rite._

_- Darius Elric DeValle Sr._

* * *

Rooftops, Deling City – 08:22

Jarok quickly disassembled the Videlic Arms manufactured PSG-1 Sniper Rifle, replacing it in the elongated case he'd placed on the roof before he'd went into Rubedo's. The rifle had been fitted with a silencer, of course; he'd wanted to do this quickly and quietly. The Senior would be happier because of it.

Jarok wasn't particularly interested in an unhappy Senior.

The packing up – and his job – finished, he moved quickly and quietly across the roof towards the catwalks leading down to the streets below. His escape route was simple, but carefully planned out, something that could be said for most of the escapes and operations Jarok had planned in the past. Most buildings in Deling City had the catwalks that he now headed towards, however, not as many were actually dependant on them for floor access. The building he'd shot from was old, and if it wasn't in Deling City, it might have been demolished and replaced with a better building.

But Deling City was notorious for putting a fresh coat of paint on its flaws, hiding them in the darkness of twilight…

Caught up in his thoughts as he was, he didn't realize that he was being watched until it was too late. His feet set down on the last step of a stairwell, and he turned…to meet only the extended blade of Kitaras Nicholai.

He slowly looked up, meeting her eyes. They were ringed with a red tint, and he instinctively knew that she had seen everything; from the senior Deling's untimely demise to Maria Deling's bullet-riddled future. There was no point in trying to hide anything from her, especially considering he still carried the rifle case in one of his hands.

Silently, he dropped it to the catwalk as she glared at him.

"You…bastard."

Her words were quiet, choking almost on tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.

"Kitaras-"

Quicker than he expected, she moved towards him and slapped him, cold fury lining her every motion.

"Shut up. You don't get to talk right now."

The redness of her handprint lingered, just as the thoughts of his earlier actions did, as he decided to obey her for the moment.

"You killed him. You killed a man who declared you his own brother. How sick…how perverse is your mind?"

He didn't respond, something that merely seemed to make the female angrier. Her eyes didn't move from his as she continued; face still set in the fury-etched expression she'd held since confronting him.

"You killed the only man in this world who cared about me. Who actually cared that I existed. And why? For the DeValle family? For fucking Darius DeValle Senior?!"

Again, he didn't answer. Again, Kitaras Nicholai slapped him in the face, this time harder.

"Answer me, you shithead! Was it for Albel? Why did you do this?!"

Kitaras' voice had risen from a tranquil fury to a furious, raging volume, but Jarok still seemed unaffected by either the pitch of her words or the words themselves. A long, tense moment passed between the two, finally broken by the comparatively quiet sound of Jarok's own voice.

"What does it matter? You're going to kill me, no matter my answer. So, you can deal with not knowing."

Her fury seemed to double almost instantly, and her blade rose to his neck in the blink of an eye. Jarok merely began to laugh, an action that seemed to serve no purpose than to infuriate the already furious woman. The blade contacted his neck, and a drop of blood began to slide down Jarok's neck as Kitaras continued to stare him down.

"What? Is this some kind of joke to you? Messing with people's lives and hearts? Making people believe you're one person when you're really a viper? Is this fun, asshole? Are you having a good time?!"

Faster than Kitaras had expected, much faster than she could've reacted to, his blade flew from its sheath and shoved away her own, nearly sending her stumbling back from the force.

"Oh, I'm having the time of my life!"

Recovering from the sudden move, Kitaras flew into action, lashing out at Jarok with furious, precise strikes that pushed him back towards the stairs and the railing for the catwalk. Try as he might, Jarok couldn't find a way to defend against the onslaught as he was forced back, every step taking him closer to the edge of the walkway. As he loomed closer and closer to the railing, he realized for the first time that his foolproof plan…could have instead been foolish.

His back touched the rail, and Kitaras' lips curved into a smile as her blade easily sliced through the rail, inches shy of his right arm. Before he could question the action, he was scrambling for balance, Kitaras' foot outstretched from where it had kicked him in the chest. His reactions took over for his thoughts as he began to fall, and his blade hooked through a piece of the railing as his hand caught onto the walkway itself, keeping him from taking a four-story plunge…

Right before Kitaras' polished boot crushed his hand, rendering him devoid of the handhold and leaving him dangling by just his blade and the piece of metal railing.

"How does it feel? I control your life and death now, maggot," Kitaras hissed, grinning sadistically at the suffering assassin. The battle had been violently swung to her favor, and she knew it. Jarok looked up at her, and a grin crept across his face as his eyes met her own. An instant later, her eyes widened as she realized he wasn't nearly as desperate as he should have been.

"You forget…before I got into this line of business, I was SeeD."

A knife slid from a sheath in his sleeve in a blink, and he grabbed the weapon, slamming it into her foot without hesitation. The pain forced her back just enough for Jarok to recover, pushing himself up and over the remains of the railing to land easily on the catwalk.

"Leviathan agrees well with me."

Her eyes narrowed again, and she held her blade out before striking again, a speedy lunge towards Jarok's chest. However, this time, Jarok's hidden junction gave him the upper hand, and he leaped up and over her attack to land behind her lightly. Kitaras turned around just in time to meet Jarok's own furious strike, grunting as she blocked the heavy blow.

"Why didn't you show me this earlier?" she growled, defending against Jarok's following strikes with more ease.

"Forgot. Sorry, milady."

His grin had stayed during the entire exchange, a face that was beginning to infuriate Kitaras to no end – as if he was truly proud of all that he had accomplished. His blade was similarly steady, forcing Kitaras back with strike after strike. In moments, the tables had been reversed, as Kitaras found herself in the same position Jarok had been in. The catwalk groaned under the strain as the two warriors continued to duel, moving closer and closer to the same rent metal railing Jarok had nearly been thrown from. Kitaras suddenly blocked a sweeping strike from Jarok's blade and went for a counterattack, but a well-timed slice from Jarok's sword sent her own flying out of her hand to land on the ground four stories below.

With no other weapon available, her energy and emotions both drained, Kitaras' eyes met Jarok's own once more, a look of defeat and resignation in them that hadn't been there but moments before.

"So… this is how it ends…?" she quietly asked, almost perfectly balanced on the edge, seemingly unaware of the fall that awaited her mere centimeters away. Jarok met her gaze silently, sheathing his blade at his side without a word. Kitaras smiled ruefully.

"Jarok, answer me one question."

He nodded.

"…Why haven't you struck me down?"

Jarok simply shook his head.

"I can't," he said quietly, his eyes betraying nothing and yet everything at the same time. Her lips curved into a sad smile.

"Perhaps… it wasn't meant to be, then," she said, leaning into him. The battle of moments ago forgotten, her lips brushed his…

And she pushed off of him, sending herself flying off the catwalk.

His hand reached out, trying to grab her, but the force behind her shove had stopped any hope of that. He could only watch in anger as she hit the ground below…

* * *

___The epilogue is next!_


	8. Epilogue: Clouded Horizons

Streets, Deling City - 11:00

A crater marked where hours ago Kitaras Nicholai had slammed at top speed into the ground. However, the only thing that remained on the spider-webbed asphalt was a fair-sized stain of dried blood. Her body was nowhere to be found.

"Was she alive?" the Senior asked as they stood next to the place of impact. Albel shrugged, folding his arms.

"Jarok's message said he wasn't sure. She wasn't there when he arrived at the scene."

Albel knelt down, examining the crater more closely before looking back up at the Senior.

"Even if she did manage to survive, I doubt she'd have the guts to show herself to us again."

The Senior shook his head, and quietly chuckled.

"Never underestimate a woman scorned, Albel. It is bad business sense, and generally unsafe." He paused, then added something, almost as an afterthought. "Just ask Katal."

Even Albel had to smirk at that. Katal Corelia-DeValle was not necessarily known for anger, but she did have a temper that was easily sparked. One could only pity the unfortunate victims of her rage once unleashed, if there was enough left of them to do even that. Dismissing the thought, he looked over at the Senior, moving back to the subject at hand.

"How should I handle things here?"

The DeValle family head considered the area around him, where only a short time before Jarok had walked, preparing for the assassinations of the Deling family members.

"It's already handled. My son is handling things with the Galbadian Commerce Chamber. A few loose Gil should easily solidify our new properties in the DeValle name."

Albel nodded, finding his eyes drifting back to the spot of Kitaras Nicholai's assumed demise. The Senior cleared his throat, then moved closer to also examine the area for himself.

"Jarok's payment has already been delivered to the accounts he has set up for us." He sighed, the sound coming out as a sigh of regret. "I only wish he'd been here for me to personally acknowledge his service."

Albel grunted quietly, his only response to the Senior's statement. With no more than a last glance at the dried blood on the asphalt, the pair quickly began to head towards a parked car on the side of the road. Business had finally been taken care of.

* * *

The absent man in question was actually in Timber, a glass filled to the brim with the best on tap at the Aurora Pub. Despite appearances, however, his drink was but the first, and he hadn't touched it in the hour he'd been sitting in the bar. Finally, however, he raised it up, a silent salute, still staring almost aimlessly at the table in front of him.

"I'm sorry things turned out the way they had to."

Lifting his head, he took a gulp of the liquor from the class in his hand, then set it back down on the table as his head fell again.

"Why?"

The voice from behind him, hauntingly familiar, caused his head to rise once more towards the source – at which he promptly did a double-take. For the barest instant, he wondered if the alcohol at the Aurora Pub was known for making people see ghosts, or if it was his own guilty conscience playing tricks on him.

"Don't be so surprised, Jarok."

Kitaras Nicholai was peering at him through sunglasses – silver, he noted, fittingly enough – with something akin to a smirk on her face. Dimly, he realized that not only was he staring at the figure he'd thought dead, but that his mouth was agape. Trying to fight back the surprise and reestablish a sense of calm, he worked his jaw momentarily before finding the composure to speak again.

"How are you here?"

Kitaras merely shook her head in response, the smirk remaining.

"Let's say that I received a better offer."

He blinked, confused at her words.

"A better offer? A better offer than what?"

She leaned in, almost taunting Jarok with her mere presence.

"Than death, of course."

He closed his eyes, thoroughly expecting that when he opened them, he'd see a confused bartender or another patron thinking he was quite insane. But, when he opened them, she was still sitting there, still with the same strange smile on her face.

"I'm joining up with Balamb Garden. Who knows, maybe someday we'll wind up working together."

Coyly, she picked up his drink, took a long sip, then sat it back in front of him and began to walk away. He grabbed her sleeve as she stood, guiding her back to the chair.

"You don't think I'm going to let you just walk away like that, do you? I saw you fall to your death, and you're sitting in front of me now. How?!" He demanded.

Her smirk turned demure.

"I had good junctions."

He laughed in response, a surprisingly harsh sound to his ears.

"You never had even heard of a Guardian Force until I told you I kept one on hand. You're lying!"

Kitaras merely grinned, eyes dancing beneath her silver sunglasses, and stood from the table again

"Prove it."

Then she was gone, leaving Jarok momentarily at a loss for what to do.

Regaining his senses, he stood up, quickly throwing Gil on the counter for the mostly untouched drink before following Kitaras out of the pub. She was already halfway up the stairs outside when he got to her, but he quickly caught up.

"Are you still upset?"

She stiffened, straightening and stopping at the same time.

"No," she replied, pausing for a moment. From the tone of her voice, he realized that she wasn't finished with the statement. "But, don't bring it up again. At least, not any time soon."

She began to climb the stairs again, and this time he kept pace with her easily. Looking beside her, she frowned, the look on her face becoming one of annoyance.

"So, are you planning on following me all the way to Balamb?"

He smiled, still keeping pace with her. The grin on his face only widened as he reached around, putting an arm around her shoulders before she could shirk away.

"Oh, I just wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

_And then, Family Rites came to a close. I'm thanking Ben for his hard work on editing the previous chapter, Darius for some stuff on the Senior, and anyone who read._

_Another project done, back to Runic Legacy!_


End file.
